


Smells Like Passion Fruit

by mephistia



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I just want them to smile and drink together, Not Beta Read, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Swearing, ngl it's like a stranger mission for my oc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mephistia/pseuds/mephistia
Summary: Arthur had a fairly easy job: to rob an unguarded fruit wagon from a very peculiar vendor. He didn't thought he was going to get a stabbed hand and a friend that isn't afraid of him.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Smells Like Passion Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> Oh well this is the first time I try to write something that long in english, please bear with me, it is not my primary language lol  
> Anyway I encourage you to point my errors because I know they exist!

Another day, another job. And this time it was a fairly easy one: to rob an unguarded wagon. A fruit wagon, to be more specific. The principal of that job was a very hot-headed old man, very talkative too. Arthur kept listening about that job for five minutes already, the man was turning so red with anger he could explode. Well, at least Dutch warned him about the man’s temper.

_ “It’s not an ordinary fruit wagon, Mr. Morgan, this seller got some very exotic and fine species that are of my interest; and besides that, this little burglar stole me some very important goods, including one of my own rare fruits, and I swear if you don’t get them back, I… I...” _

_ “Okay, Mr. Carter, I’ll get it for ya. You said he’ll come from east at the end of the day, isn’t it?” _ Arthur was getting annoyed with so much useless information, and with Mr. Carter’s finger right on his face. He just wanted to get the job done and then get the money. Simple as that. He was already leaving to wait for the wagon in position, but the man kept talking behind him.

_ “Exactly, I don’t care if you’ll let the seller live or die, just bring the goods intact! If possible let him know who you’re working for!” _

_ Annoying _ , he thought. Arthur didn’t really understand why anyone would be so interested in fruit. Exotic or whatever, it would be gone in less than half an hour, eaten and digested.  _ Another elitist bullshit, I guess _ .

And there he was, waiting for the wagon. Would it really be worth it? Not for him, of course, but for Mr. Carter, to pay a few dozen dollars for such an easy job? Would it really be that easy, though? There must be something the man didn’t tell him about...Oh, there was the wagon, approaching from the east. A single horse wagon. Didn’t seem elitist at all.

Arthur took a long second observing the rider. He was sure he was the seller, too. At that distance, he could see he was a short man wearing a ridiculous tiny hat and with bandages on his face and arms. Peculiar at least. Arthur put his bandana on and held his revolver, commanding his horse to gallop towards the wagon. He approached and aimed the gun at the man.

_ “Stop right there mister, this is a robbery!” _

The man yelled in surprise and pulled in the reins to stop the horse abruptly. He tried to not look at Arthur in the eyes, clearly scared and nervous, but also tried to talk it out, raising his hands:

_ “Evening, sir, I-I think you mistook me for someone else, I swear I don’t have anything worth robbing, I'm just a simple fruit vendor!” _

_ “Why, thank you for confirming! Mr. Carter would like his things back, as well as your whole supply. Get out!”  _ Arthur shouted threateningly. He couldn’t help noticing how young the vendor looked (and sounded). A young person setting up his own business...

_ “Okay, calm down, sir… I’m leaving…” _ the man said while putting his hands on the seat, preparing to get out of the wagon, slowly. That was what Arthur thought before...

_ OUCH! _

The son of a bitch just stabbed his hand with a throwing knife! He dropped the gun out of reflex and shook his hand in pain, all the movement frightening his horse and causing only more pain and bleeding since the knife was still stuck inside his skin. Before he could remove the knife, a warning:

_ “Don’t move, sir, I have more knives! Y-you just let me go and we’re fine! Please, I didn’t want to hurt you sir, I’m trying to make a living without getting in trouble...” _

Arthur only had time to calm his horse, and positioned his hand over the knife in his hand, ready to pull it out, but didn’t. That man was clearly skillful with throwing knives, so he didn’t move for his own safety, but Arthur didn’t want to give up on that “easy” money. He waited for an opening. 

_ “Listen, I admit I stole a fruit from that man, but I only needed a single one to grow more. I don’t know what he told you, but I am just trying to survive in this world. He already has plenty of this fruit… I have the hand to cultivate rare plants, and that’s what I am doing, you see?”  _ the man said in a sad voice, looking distracted and not paying attention to his thief. 

_ Now. _

Arthur reached to his secondary revolver quickly, but was surprised by another knife, this time right on the holster instead of his hand. The little time he got to look at the knife, the vendor fled with his wagon at maximum speed. Argh!

He tried to hold the reins, but  _ damn  _ his hand hurt! And he would had to dismount to pick up his gun. Much thinking took time and the wagon disappeared on the horizon.

Arthur finally pulled the knife out of his hand. He was lucky it did not pierce any tendon. Yeah, lucky; he refused to believe that man was so skilled to not injure him that bad at his own will. But he was indeed very skilled and fast with the knives, and his will to not even hurt someone like a robber was… special? Wasn’t that something Dutch said back when he was young? Arthur thought he would be pretty fitting in the gang. But now he lost his tracks. And the job. And would have to take care of his hand before he could get back to shooting.

...at least he got two new throwing knives.

  
  


⸺

  
  


What’s the other way to get money from morons besides robbing? Oh yes, gambling! Arthur was good at that, and it was something he could do with an injured hand. In order to not return to camp without any money in the pocket, he went to the nearest town saloon for a couple poker games. He didn’t want to disappoint Dutch, but he thought he would be considered a moron himself if he said he couldn’t rob a fucking fruit wagon and return with no money. It’s not like he’s proud of gambling, but it would be better than nothing.

Some hands have won him a few dollars, maybe enough to leave already, but he was having fun. The look on the faces of his opponents for each round won, it was priceless. 

His entertained smile ceased when he saw who just entered the saloon. You guessed it right, it was  _ the fruit vendor _ . Arthur got a little nervous. If the man recognized him, he could denounce him to the law, or stab him right here and now.  _ Who knows _ .

He kept an eye on that man, who went to the bar and ordered a few drinks while Arthur played some more. He deduced the man hadn't noticed him, and it would be better to, ehrm, have a little conversation with him. Maybe try to rob him again, if it was worth it.

Arthur approached the bar, right next to the young man, and ordered a whiskey. The man choked on his beer when he realized who was beside him. Before he could say anything, Arthur warned:

_ “Don’t want any trouble, remember?” _ and then he patted the man’s back to help with the cough.

The vendor was surprised, but not afraid. It was better not to generate suspicion among the other people at the saloon.

_ “Oh sir, it is you! I’m so sorry for your hand!” _ he said, looking at the bandage on Arthur’s hand as he held the glass of whiskey. He seemed very worried about it.

_ “Good you do, otherwise I would have to make you feel sorry for it.”  _ He clenched his fist to add to the warning. Of course Arthur was angry at him for the stabbing. It was nothing compared to the five finger fillet cuts he was used to. It stung like a bullet.

Oddly enough, the man laughed. Wheezing, even. _ What in tarnation…? _

_ “Hah, I’m sorry again, it’s just… nevermind. Let’s start again: name’s Vincent.” _ he gesticulated a lot, holding out his hand for a greeting at the end with a grin on his face.

Arthur found it very weird that someone was laughing at his threat, practically ignoring it, but somehow he smiled at it…? This man had such a positive energy, it was making him feel a little bit awkward. No one ever acted like that after an intimidation. Anyway he shook hands with Vincent, curious about the fellow.

_ “Arthur.” _


End file.
